


His world was you.

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [30]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Character Death, Established Relationship, HYDRA Husbands, M/M, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-03 18:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13346550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: Brock goes down, he knows he's not getting back up again.





	His world was you.

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, what is my life with these sads.  
> Again, warning. There is a death in this, I know of at least one person who doesn't read tags (looking at you Victoria. lol) so yeah.  
> I partially blame Ineswrites for this because of feelings that come forth when talking about Jack.

Brock could see the sun slowly slipping away, the sky awash with colors of reds, oranges and golds. His eyes slowly moved, readjusted to the figure looming over him, too serious, too _sad_. 

He reached up, wrapping fingers around the front snaps of Rollins’ vest, tugging him forward a little, flashing a smirk but sure he fell short, “Rollins. Talk to me.”

“What do you need, Brock?”

His eyes felt heavy, grip wet and tacky, slipping from the straps, “Tell me I’m fine. Gonna get outta ‘ere and get a beer, yeah?”

“I..” Jack swallowed thickly, “You..know I _can’t_.”

“Bullshit,” He forced out, something twisted inside of him at that look Rollins was making, his fingers trembled against the vest zipper and a gloved hand pressed over it, shiny and red despite it being black. “I’ve seen ya tell other guys they’re gonna be fuckin’ fine. Guys with half their torso’s blown clear off and you can’t lie to _me_?”

“No,” Jack pressed his lips together firmly, fighting the way they tried to twist in pain, in a grimace and he shook his head. “Brock, don’t ask me to.”

He already knew it was bad, that was obvious. His insides felt like they had been put through the ringer more than once and no one was close enough to come to his aid besides Jack, not that there was any point to. Jack wasn’t calling for assistance more than the one time and he didn’t have to survey it himself to know that, it was enough just to watch him fall to his knees and let go of that stiff facade he wore almost everywhere but home.

_Home._

Right, home. _Their_ stupid home, so damn suburban and normal. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it but he liked it. It smelled stuffy and old the first few days but slowly it shifted and things were being moved in and everything was better. The sheets smelled like Jack and he hugged his pillow when he’d be up too damn early and not knowing better for it. Their backyard was overgrown and too big. There were talks of animals and soon Jack was mowing without a shirt on and Brock drank in the view like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

He came back to reality, staring up at that face, smile gone like when he was too amused about something but too pulled together to react.

“And why the hell not?” Brock cut in trying his best to be smug in the face of imminent death. They got the job done, right? Jack wouldn’t come over wasting his time if they didn’t. Nah, he taught him better than that. Despite knowing he was important, the job was higher up than him. They all knew that and if he was going to go down, at least it was when he was fighting. The bodies a few yards away told him he did just that and it felt good despite his body numbing itself to all the flaring bouts of pain and agony. “C’mon Jackie.”

Jack said nothing but squeezed his hand that stayed pressed against his vest, he could taste the blood in his mouth, the way Rollins’ heart beat faster.

Grimacing, Jack stared straight into his eyes, “I couldn’t save you.”

“Hey, _hey_.” His hand struggled to lift off Jack’s chest and maneuver upwards and Jack immediately bent his head lower, Brock caressing his cheek. “You fuckin’ _tried_ , alright? Either way, got the damn job done and- ”

Jack shook his head and Brock patted the spot, blood contrasting the pallid color of his skin with a wide smile as he felt the edges of his sight darkening. 

“Stop, just..just relax Brock. Just- ” Shaking his head, Jack pressed a kiss to his forehead, blinking too much as he bent in close and pressed his face against his neck. Jack’s breathing came out ragged and harsh against his throat and along his collarbone as he was held the best he could without there being anymore discomfort to the equation. 

“Yer gonna be fine, Jackie. Jus fine.” He pulled his hand from Jack’s cheek, tremors lingering in his fingertips as they danced along upwards and into his hair. He tries not to think about how their place will feel so empty for Jack, too dark. “Yer gonna take lead now, you know that right? Gonna have to be strong and challenge them like I know you fuckin’ can- ”

“Stop it Brock, just stop it.” Jack’s voice trembled, almost begging him. It dislodged Brock, just a little bit. He watched him draw back from his embrace, eyes red rimmed and distraught.

“Jack?”

“Don’t,” Jack brought trembling hands up to cup his face, leaning in to press their foreheads together. His eyes slipped closed and he kept shaking his head, “Don’t leave me here alone.”

“You ain’t alone, ever. You knew this might happen, comes with the territory.” 

“With someone else’s territory, _not ours_. You’re supposed to grow old with me, Brock! I can’t be here without you, in _our_ house with your things around mixed in with mine. I _can’t_. Without you there, how am I going to care about anything?” 

“Jack- ”

“I love you.”

Brock choked back tears threatening to come, he couldn’t afford them as lips pressed against his and he let his eyes close momentarily, just for a second as he kissed back softly, grateful he could still feel that at least.

“Me too Jackie, me too. Always loved ya even before I ever really knew. Don’t, don’t let yourself go down that road you used to, not again.” Jack pulled back, Brock grasping as firmly as he could around strands of dark hair, “I mean it.” 

He could see the way Jack was breaking apart, emotions surfacing across features usually so hard and stoic unless they were alone and then Brock was graced with soft smiles and gazes that made him feel exposed. There were always hot hands and a litany of praises on the tip of Jack’s tongue, extensions of him at his most vulnerable when they were tangled in soft sheets and darkness. Brock let those thoughts linger in his mind a few more seconds before he returned to see the face before him.

Jack was breaking and Brock could see it happening before his eyes. Fragments of himself tearing into precious pieces and splintering into tinier ones as the seconds floated by. 

“Tell me.” Jack pleaded, eyes a slip wider, green like the dusky meadows they had walked through together. A moment they shared breathing each other’s breath amongst tall grass and thick old oak trees that hid them away from the team and their camp. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love, he had no idea _he could_ fall in love, especially not to Jack. “Tell me you’re going to survive this. Tell me you’re _fine_. That we’re going back home together and you’ll make a mess like you do every time we decompress from a heavy trip. _Tell me_.” 

Brock opened his mouth, lips faint with flecks of blood. He wasn’t sure what would even come out but Jack only shook his head, Brock watching tears break away and roll down cheeks. He looked soft this way, following how they rolled off sharp cheekbones and one cut through the pale mark of his scar before landing on the mess that was once Brock’s chest. He could feel his own eyes sting, that wetness blinding him as he fought to blink them back again. 

“Tell me.” Jack implored, “Tell me I can live without you.”

“Jack.” Brock breathed out, name barely formed as he used the last of his strength to draw him in. As Jack always did, he let himself be lured into his orbit until Brock could press his cool tinged lips against his again. Brock watched, refusing to close his eyes as he stared into those green hues, lips more firmly pressed to trembling ones. “Don’t let go. Don’t you dare get yourself fuckin’ killed like some asshole followin’ after their lover. You still got business here.” He pressed another forceful kiss against Jack’s lips, “You _can_ live without me, you did it before. Can do it again, you’ll be fine Jackie, I promise. Don’t ever fuckin’ think I didn’t love ya either ‘cuz I do. Always did. More than you’ll know, I fuckin’ do. Always been a mess and you come along, only motherfucker on this planet wantin’ to deal with my shit.” 

Jack let out a choked whimper of pain and cradled him close. It was the last sound Brock heard before he finally let his tears go while his eyes shut, mind sweeping away to darkness. 

Footsteps moved in and it was the moment Jack finally realized they weren’t alone, a soundless growl and a clench of jaw stopping medical’s approach, arms protectively supporting Brock’s upper frame to his chest as his eyes set a challenge to anyone wanting to step in any closer.

It didn’t matter how he looked, caked in dirt and blood, body taut and ready for a fight. The team could try to take his body away if they liked but nothing really mattered anymore as he felt the numbness soak into his bones from the shock. 

It didn’t matter. 

It didn’t.

Brock was dead, now so was he.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know. Trying to finish my HH Xmas fic but sometimes my brain wants to write short things. Also, Jack Rollins mindlessly fighting people for no reason but to protect Brock's body? Hell yeah. Gimmie.


End file.
